Purrfect Murder (The Mysteries of Max Book 1)

Chapter 16

Odelia pulled the car up in front of the police station, and let the cats out. Dooley seemed reluctant to be shifted, so Max gave him a poke and he finally relented, muttering something about never being allowed to get any sleep.

“We have a job to do, Dooley,” said Max solemnly. “Sleep can wait.”

She watched the two cats stalk off, launching their all-important mission, and smiled to herself. If it hadn’t been for her special talent of being able to talk to cats, her life would have looked quite different. She walked into the police station and waltzed straight past Dolores, who announced that this time the chief was in, and would be more than happy to see her.

Happy or not, he was going to see her anyway. She needed to know what the medical examiner had discovered.

“Hey, Odelia,” said her uncle when she breezed into his office. “I was just going to call you.” And he held up his phone as proof of these words.

She plunked down in a chair and gave him a tense look. All this business with Chase had only served to take her mind off the murder case, which was probably a whole lot more important than whether the detective was innocent of the crime he’d been accused of or not.

“Shoot,” she finally said. “How did Paulo Frey die?”

“Well,” said her uncle, leaning back in his chair, “looks like bludgeoning.”

“Bludgeoning?”

“The guy had his head smashed in. And since we found a poker next to the body, that just might be our murder weapon. Especially since it was a little bent out of shape, exactly the shape of a person’s head, actually.”

She whistled through her teeth. “That must have been some hit.”

“Yeah, whoever killed him hit him so hard they fractured his skull, which, according to the ME, is what caused his death. And a good thing, too.”

“That’s a little harsh. You didn’t even know the guy.”

Her uncle emitted a chuckle. “I mean that if he’d been stabbed or had his throat slit we might never have found out, as the body was too decomposed.”

“Anything else? Chase told me you pinpointed time of death?”

“Yeah, the techies discovered that Frey used to sync his smartphone to his laptop, which was an automated process, apparently. The last time he did was September sixteen, which is also the last time the laptop was accessed.”

“Because it ended up in the cesspit along with the body.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you get anything off his phone?”

“Nope. We’re checking his laptop, but so far it hasn’t yielded any clues.”

“No webcam picture of the killer bending over the victim while he was busy working on his next masterpiece?”

He laughed. “Now wouldn’t that be something? But no. No picture of the killer.”

“Too bad.”

“Yeah.” He gave her a quick look. “Chase tells me you keep popping up wherever he goes?”

“I could say the same thing about him.”

“It’s driving him nuts,” said her uncle with a grin. “I guess NYPD cops aren’t used to reporters interviewing suspects and going over the crime scene.”

“I guess not,” she said with a smile.

“You talked to Aissa Spring and Gabby Cleret, so there’s not much you don’t already know, I guess,” he said, checking a file on his desk.

“Apart from the fact that Paulo Frey was not a nice person? I guess not.”

“Yeah, he was a piece of work, all right,” her uncle admitted. “I talked to Hetta Fried, by the way.”

“The owner of the Writer’s Lodge? What did she have to say?”

“Well, apparently Frey never paid his bills. He had this thing where he simply ignored any reminder she’d send him until she threatened with a lawsuit. Then he’d pay up, but only a fraction of the total amount.”

“But why? I thought he was rich.”

Her uncle shrugged. “Maybe that’s how he got rich? He hadn’t paid his bills for the last two years.”

“And she still allowed him to come back?”

“Sure. Having a big-name author like him was good for business. Just the mention of his name on the website attracted a lot of lesser writers, who wanted to write in the same place as the master, hoping to catch some of the magic.” The last word he said making air quotes.

“I can’t imagine Hetta would kill him over unpaid bills, though.”

“Me neither. She wasn’t going to kill the goose with the golden eggs, even if he didn’t pay his bills. Besides, this murder is murder on her business. She told me she’s received a dozen cancellations already and might have to close down the lodge if this keeps up.”

“I guess lesser writers don’t want to write where the master got killed.”

“I guess not,” he said with a grin. “Oh, and I also talked to the production company that went belly up after that Indiana Jones fracas.”

She sat up. Now that was a valuable lead. “And? Any suspects?”

He studied his notes. “I talked to one of the principals, and he didn’t have a lot of good things to say about Frey. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever heard so many four-letter words in such a short space of time. But he also assured me he didn’t kill Frey. And yes, I checked his alibi,” he said before she could ask. “You’re talking to an old dog here, honey. I know how to do my job. The guy was at a party in Beverly Hills, and so was his partner. So no dice.”

“Too bad,” she said, disappointed. That was such a good lead. Then she brightened. “Maybe they hired a professional to get rid of Frey?”

He stared at her. “Odelia, honey, movie producers don’t go around having people killed. It’s Hollywood, not the Mob.”

She shrugged. “Just saying. It’s a possibility.”

“A very implausible one.”

“So, um…” She stared at the desk. “Have you heard from Chase?”

He eyed her with a humorous expression on his face. “Yeah, he told me he saw you snooping around the lodge. He also told me you almost broke your neck.”

“I didn’t break my neck,” she protested. “I would have been perfectly fine if he hadn’t started badgering me, causing me to lose my footing.”

“So he caused you to lose your footing, huh? How did that happen?”

She noticed he was grinning from ear to ear, and glared at him. He was just as bad as Max and Dooley. Did everyone think she had the hots for Chase Kingsley? “He caught me just as I was trying to get into the place.”

“You should have asked for the key,” he said, still smiling.

“I didn’t think about that,” she admitted.

“Well, you wouldn’t have found anything of importance in there anyway. We searched that place top to bottom. Went over it with a crime scene team.”

“No fingerprints?”

“Oh, sure. Lots and lots of them. That place gets rented out on a weekly basis, honey, and let me tell you, Rohanna Coral, whatever her other qualities, is a lousy cleaner. We found dust that hadn’t been shifted in years.”

“Yeah, I talked to Rohanna. She said Frey was a good tipper.”

“At least someone got some money out of the guy.”

They stared at each other for a beat. “So who killed him, Chief?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” he grumbled. “And I’m also sure you’ll find out.”

She laughed. “And why is that?”

“You’ve got skills, honey. Skills that no one else has. So…”

She stared at him. She’d long suspected that her uncle knew about the special talent she’d inherited from his sister. Dad knew, of course. You can’t live with three generations of women and not know. Had Marge told her brother? Or had he noticed her uncommon affinity with cats growing up together? She gave him a grateful smile now. If he knew about their secret, he certainly hadn’t told anyone. “Thanks, Uncle Alec.”

He seemed taken aback. “What for?”

“For letting me be a part of the investigation. And for your confidence.”

He made a throwaway gesture. “Oh, nonsense. Anyone with a brain can see you’re a natural at this stuff, honey.”

“Chase Kingsley can’t see it.”

“Well,” he said with a grin, “Chase is new. He’s got a lot to learn about Hampton Cove and the way we do things around here. I’m sure that over time he’ll start to see what a great addition you make to the team, in a non-official capacity. Now what are your plans? Where do we go from here?”

She chewed her lip for a moment, then suddenly remembered something. “You know, when I talked to Gabby, she mentioned something about there probably being other people out there that Frey must have slandered. How about I try to find those other victims? Maybe one of them finally snapped?”

“Great idea,” he grunted. “Chase said something similar.”

“Oh, Chase is looking into that angle too, huh?”

Uncle Alec scratched his scalp. “He’s a great detective, actually.” He eyed her wearily for a moment. “You may not see eye to eye with the guy, but he’s a first-rate sleuth, and, just like you, a great addition to the team.”

She nodded. “I know. It’s just that he rubs me the wrong way, especially when he insists I’m just a nosy reporter and should mind my own business.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, he’ll get over that. I’m sure that’s just a big-city kind of thing. Now that he’s here in the sticks, he’ll see we do things differently.”

And with these wise words, he waved her off.